Just Dance
by thebookfan09
Summary: One cycle, when Lightwing Prime, brother of Optimus Prime, decides to treat himself, nothing can go wrong for him! But, when do things ever go as planned, especially when you're surrounded by high grade and dancing mechs and femmes? Luckily, Lightwing knows the solution to his problems. Just dance.


**Alright, this idea has been bugging me for a while, so I finally decided to let it free.  
This fic contains scenes of Cybertronian drinking and clubbing. Nothing explicit, though, so don't worry! It's just a dance club. But there might be a stolen kiss or two between my ever-flexible OC, Lightwing Prime, and the familiar femme that I chose to work with! Well, don't let me hold you guys up anymore, go enjoy the fic!  
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or anything related to Lady GaGa (besides this here fic). **

* * *

Lightwing had been looking forward to this cycle for a long time now. The mech had been working too hard; running the newly-formed Senate with his brother Optimus was hard work! The young Prime had wanted to have a night out for a while now, but his schedule had kept him too busy to do much. Until now, that is. Lightwing had decided to attend the grand opening of what would be one of Cybertron's finest dance clubs: Haywire. When his internal chronometer pinged him with an alarm, Lightwing filed the last of his reports and smiled to himself. It was about time to get going. ***  
Following the directions his internal GPS fed him, Lightwing's alt mode sped through the rapidly emptying streets of the newly-rebuilt Iacon. There was still a strictly enforced curfew in these parts unless you had a legitimate reason to be roaming around, and the setting of Cybertron's sun meant you had better be in your housing unit. However, the budding Enforcers unit, led by the former Autobot TiC Prowl, had made an exception for those mechs and femmes who were heading to the newly-opened club.

Speaking of the club, Lightwing finally pulled up to the showy entrance and transformed flashily, with a twist of his body and a handspring onto his pedes, to stare at the club with dismay. He had missed the official opening! It looked like the party was already in full swing, with lights flashing and music booming. Ah well, better late than never, he thought to himself and strode through to the doorway. The tough-looking bouncer at the entrance took one look at him and moved aside to grant him entrance. Lightwing grinned to himself. Sometimes being a Prime had advantages.

But sadly, it had its disadvantages too. As soon as the bots inside noticed him, the excitement seemed to grind to a halt. Femmes and mechs everywhere stopped dancing, drinking and flirting to stare at the Prime. Lightwing sighed and rolled his optics. Everywhere he went, society acted like this! It really bugged him; he was a Prime, not Primus himself. Sure a little respect was warranted, but citizens treated him and his brother with awe bordering on reverence. At least during the Golden Age, Primes weren't constantly ogled. Now to diffuse the tension in the room. Luckily, Lightwing tended to be a bit of a party animal…

"What're you all starin' at? DJ, crank the music back up, and the high grade's on me!" The occupants of the room seem to let out a collective sigh as the party started back up. They must have thought that Lightwing was about to shut the place down. Well, that's what happened when you had an uptight brother. The easy-going Prime approached the bar and looked at the glowing cubes of energon proudly displayed behind the bartender.

"Alright, my mech, gimme the strongest drink you got."

"You got it, sir," the mech said while mixing together a glowing purple cube of energon with several additives.

"Don't 'sir' me, mech! It's Lightwing. I didn't come here for more business, I just came to party." Lightwing accepted the drink and turned to survey the dance floor, which was a writing mass of Cybertronians. The young mech took a swig from his cube and felt the high grade chip away at his higher functions and the room seemed to blur around him. Well, it was time to dance. Or maybe he should have a drink or two more…. ***

_I've had a little bit too much, much All of the people start to rush, start to rush by How does she twist the dance? Can't find a drink, oh man Where are my keys? I lost my phone, phone_

Lightwing tossed his empty energon cube aside and looked towards the bartender. How many cubes had he had already? Four? Five? It didn't matter, he needed another!

"I need another cube, my good mech," Lightwing slurred, "I'm not sure what you put in 'em, but it's so niiiice! I feel all… loose inside."

The bartender shook his grizzled helm, but started mixing up another cube for the dizzy mech in front of him. That Prime must have incredible stamina. He was on his tenth drink already.

Lightwing accepted the new cube as a thought hazily drifted across his processor. Where had he put the key card to his housing unit? It wasn't in his subspace where it belonged… it couldn't have been back at his housing unit, he fuzzily remembered bringing it with him. Ah well, he knew Optimus had a spare for him just in case Lightwing ever… misplaced his own. Let's just say he wasn't the most careful mech. Maybe he should comm his brother and ask where he kept the spare? Heh heh, spare. Lightwing giggled to himself. Why did he need a spare when he had his own…. Oh wait, he lost it. It suddenly became clear to the mech that he was well on his way to getting overcharged. Not that it really mattered to him anymore.

Remembering his current dilemma, Lightwing made to comm Optimus when he realized that he couldn't. Huh, that was strange. All he had to do was send a signal to… wait, what was he supposed to do again? He just needed to send an internal signal to his… wait, he couldn't remember! Lightwing shook his helm rapidly to try and shake off the processor inducing haze caused by the high grade. No luck, he was too far gone to sober up now. Well, looks like comming Optimus would have to wait until he could think straight again. In the meantime, he could really do with another drink.

"Bartender!'

_What's going on on the floor? I love this record baby but I can't see straight anymore Keep it cool, what's the name of this club? I can't remember but it's alright, a-alright_

After downing yet another cube of energon, Lightwing finally turned his attention to the dance floor, where a new track was starting to play. He loved this song! It had supposedly been written by the former Autobot head of communications and the SiC, Blaster and Jazz. Regardless of who composed it, the song was undoubtedly amazing, and Lightwing thought he had been avoiding the dance floor for too long now. Besides, if he drank anymore, the mech would be too dizzy to do any kind of dancing.

Lightwing tried to stand up, but he crashed back into his chair. Whoa. Maybe he'd had more high grade than he realized. Everything in the corners of his optics blurred out, but Lightwing was nothing if not determined. On the second attempt, he managed to stand without immediately falling on his aft, although he did wobble dangerously on his pedes. With standing successfully accomplished, Lightwing began to stumble his way over to where the crowd of dancing mechs was concentrated, passing several mechs that had passed out and a few couples that were eagerly locking lip plates. Despite the obstacles, the big mech managed to make his way over to the crowded dance floor.

'Yup,' Lightwing thought to himself as he wove gracefully through the dancing crowd, his stumbling turning into smooth movements despite the fact that he was overcharged and bigger than most mechs, 'I'm definitely gonna have to come back to Haymaker- err Livewire'… Frag, what was the name of this Primus-slagging club?! But then again, did it really matter? With another sip of high grade, Lightwing began to mellow out a bit. He was sure everything would be alright. Now, about finding a dancing partner…

_Just dance, gonna be okay, da da doo-doo-mmm Just dance, spin that record babe, da da doo-doo-mmm Just dance, gonna be okay, d-d-d-dance Dance, dance, just, j-j-just dance_

_Wish I could shut my playboy mouth, oh oh oh-oh How'd I turn my shirt inside out? Inside outright Control your poison babe, roses have thorns they say And we're all getting hosed tonight, oh oh oh-oh_

The femme Lightwing had his optics on was the most graceful dancer on the floor, despite the fact that she was at least as overcharged as Lightwing himself. Now, his ego could be irritating on the best of days, but in his inebriated state, the young Prime was feeling especially cocky, and he decided to approach the dancing femme.

As he neared her, he started swaying his frame in time with hers; matching every move she made as if they had been dancing together for their whole lives. The femme didn't pay him any attention until the mech was standing right in front of her, still matching her feminine moves with more masculine moves of his own. Only then did the beauty look his way, optic ridges raised slightly at his nearness.

"Hey there, gorgeous. Why doesn't a pretty frame like you have an equally good-looking dancing partner," Lightwing slurred in what he thought was a suave voice that actually sounded more than a little desperate. Before the femme had a chance to respond, probably with a cutting remark, Lightwing interrupted her with a grin. "I can help you fix your lack of a decent partner, if you want me to."

The femme smirked right back at the mech and decided to play the ignorant, bashful female. "Oh? And where would a poor, clumsy femme like me find a dancing partner."

Lightwing's grin grew ever so slightly. The femme was playing right into his servos! Said servo extended in the femme's direction as Lightwing prepared to direct another inquiry at her. "What would your designation be, pretty one? Mine is Prime. Lightwing Prime."

The still dancing femme's optics shuttered for a klik, but other than that she showed no outward sign of surprise to find out the mech who had struck up a conversation with her was a Prime. Normally, she would have recognized him right away, but by this time, she was almost as heavily intoxicated as he. Without missing a beat, the femme decided that she might as well have a little fun with the arrogant mech. After all, it had been quite some time since she had spoken to a Prime, the last time being on Earth when she was part of Optimus Prime's team.

"My designation is… Arcee."

"Arcee? As in the Arcee that was stationed on Earth with Optimus Prime?"

"The one and only, mech. I take it my reputation precedes me?"

Lightwing gapped in surprise; he had meant to throw her off her game by giving away his heritage, he hadn't expected her to pull the same trick. If he was going to shut his mouth, now would be the time to do it, before his flirting backfired again.

Arcee chuckled and wove her way back through the crowd of dancing bots back towards the bar, swaying in a way that screamed overcharged yet was graceful as well. She glanced over her shoulder and winked her optic at Lightwing, beckoning for him to follow. Well, Lightwing had never been one to say no to femmes!

When he went to follow the ever elusive Arcee, the larger mech stumbled and nearly fell, only saving himself from an embarrassing and painful crash by grabbing onto the shoulder of the nearest mech, who turned and glared at the sheepishly grinning Prime. Turning his attention downwards to try and see what had caused him to fall, Lightwing gaped in shock at his leg armor. It looked like a pair of clever servos had removed and rearranged the armor backwards over his protoform! Could armor even do that?! More importantly, who had done that to his armor?

Sparing a glance over in Arcee's direction, Lightwing noticed that femme was laughing so hard that she had to fight not to fall out of her stool. So Arcee had done this to him? The Prime narrowed his optics in anticipation. The chase was on!

_What's going on on the floor? I love this record baby but I can't see straight anymore Keep it cool, what's the name of this club? I can't remember but it's alright, a-alright_

_Just dance, gonna be okay, da da doo-doo-mmm Just dance, spin that record babe, da da doo-doo-mmm Just dance, gonna be okay, d-d-d-dance Dance, dance, just, j-j-just_

_When I come through on the dance floor checkin' out that catalog Can't believe my eyes, so many women without a flaw And I ain't gon' give it up, steady tryin' to pick it up like a car I'ma hit it, I'ma hit it and flex and do it until tomorr' yeah  
_Lightwing ambled over to the femme, who was still struggling not to fall out of her seat by the bar. He glared at her, which only made her laugh harder, vents coming in hard and fast.

"That was a dirty trick you pulled, Arcee. I don't know how you did it, but I know it was you. "

Arcee stopped laughing just long enough to reply to the irritated mech sitting beside her. "You caught me, Prime! I messed with your leg armor, but it doesn't matter how I managed it. Let's just say that you don't serve under Optimus Prime without learning a thing or two. Now, are you goin' to buy me a drink or what?"

Lightwing relented with a roll of his optics before signaling for the bartender from earlier to bring them two drinks. As they waited for the drinks to arrive, Lightwing stared intently at the lovely femme sitting next to him, planning his next move. He opened his mouth to resume their playful argument and hopefully draw her back onto the dance floor when she did something that took him completely by surprise.

Arcee suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lip plates delicately against Lightwing's own for a brief klik. When she pulled back, the young mech looked shell-shocked, and she would be surprised if he blew a logic processor with that look on his faceplate. Oh how she enjoyed teasing mechs like him. But maybe this time, even though she wouldn't admit it to herself yet, she felt a little something more…

Lightwing was indeed shocked, his optics crackling until he had to reset them. Had the femme really just kissed him? That was a bold move, and Lightwing definitely hadn't been expecting it. How had Arcee managed to turn the tables on him yet again? Well, that only left the mech with one last move.

"I think you owe me a dance", the Prime said, servo extended in a silent offer.

Arcee's optics sparkled for a moment before she relented with a brief yet excited, "Fine."

_Shawty I can see that you got so much energy The way you're twirlin' up them hips 'round and 'round And now there's no reason at all why you can't leave here with me In the meantime stay and let me watch you break it down  
And dance, gonna be okay, da da doo-doo-mmm Just dance, spin that record babe, da da doo-doo-mmm_

Lightwing's spark pounded in anticipation; this was the moment he had been looking forward to almost since he had first walked into Haywire. Arcee began slowly moving her streamlined hips, inviting the mech to step in and dance whenever he felt like it. Gearing himself up like he was about to go into battle, and perhaps this was a battle of sorts, Lightwing slowly began to loosen up and let the rhythm of the music move his frame, as Arcee was already doing.

He gathered the lovely frame loosely in his arms, and when the femme offered no resistance, he started synchronizing their moves. When Arcee twirled one way, Lightwing flowed the other. To any causal watcher, and indeed there were many, Lightwing's dancing was merely complimenting Arcee's own, but to the mech that knew what he was watching, the Prime's subtle movements were just as complex as his partner's, yet they were meant to draw all optics back towards the femme. Lightwing was keeping himself out of the spotlight for once.

However, when the wily Arcee began to move faster, Lightwing couldn't resist steeping forward slightly and matching her movement for movement, until the two were flowing around so gracefully that many of the dancing mechs and femmes stopped and watched the pair with no small amount of jealousy.

Lightwing definitely admitted that things were going quite smoothly, until Arcee decided to play her trump card. Spinning on her heeled pedes, the femme flipped over to rest on one servo briefly before spinning back up to land on her heels. When the slightly less agile mech attempted to copy the move, he ended up on his aft, with Arcee grinning victoriously down at him.

Lightwing stood up with a determination that defied his overcharged state. It seemed that Arcee was playing hard to get, but that didn't matter to him. Being a Prime had taught him many things, but how to get a femme wasn't one of them. Luckily, Lightwing was nothing if not persistent, and he was determined to win this particular femme over. And maybe, just maybe, Arcee would be worth all of the hard work.

"Let's try that move again, 'Cee."_  
Just dance, gonna be okay, da da doo-doo-mmm Just dance, spin that record babe, da da doo-doo-mmm Just dance, gonna be okay, d-d-d-dance Dance, dance, just, j-j-just dance  
Go! Use your muscle, carve it out, work it, hustle I got it, just stay close enough to get it Don't slow! Drive it, clean it, lights out, bleed it Spend the lasto(I got it) In your pocko(I got it)_

A few joor, and several falls, later, Lightwing felt like he needed one last drink, and he could tell that Arcee was thinking the same. He wandered over to the bar for what could be the last time that night and ordered two cubes of high grade from the bartender's dwindling supply. As he was waiting on his final drink of the night, Lightwing took a moment to admire the slowly dancing Arcee, how the flashing lights glinted off of her frame and caused it to shine hypnotically. He had never met a femme quite like her, and he was even considering staying in touch with her after tonight. After all, why let all his hard work in charming her go to waste?

The bartender finally finished mixing the final two cubes of high grade from his stores and handed them to the waiting mech. Lightwing paid the mech with the last of the credits that he had brought with him and headed back to Arcee, his energon cube in one servo and hers grasped tightly in the other. Now he could focus on dancing the few remaining joor away, until the sun rose over Cybertron once again.

_Just dance, gonna be okay, da da doo-doo-mmm Just dance, spin that record babe, da da doo-doo-mmm_

_Just dance, gonna be okay, da da doo-doo-mmm Just dance, spin that record babe, da da doo-doo-mmm Just dance, gonna be okay, d-d-d-dance Dance, dance, just, j-j-just dance_

Lightwing finally decided that he was glad to have taken the cycle off for himself ; he had high-grade in on servo, and a beautiful dancing partner. It wouldn't matter if- or rather when- he woke up the next cycle not remembering anything that had happened. Why not live in the moment and make the most of it? As the last of his inhibitions flowed away, the mech realized that he was starting to forget what had happened a few joor ago already. Ah well, you know what they say when you're in a club with high grade and femmes.

Just dance.

**_  
What'd you guys think? I'll be honest, this fic tossed my plans for it down the drain. It turned out MUCH differently than I had expected, but I'm not really complaining. Not to mention it took much longer to write than I thought it would, 'cuz I kept going back and improving things. But in the end, I was more than satisfied with what I had, and I hope you guys were too! **


End file.
